Night Walks
by mandaree1
Summary: The Unknown never lets go. Greg and Wirt are slowly becoming more and more permanent residents there, and they both know it. Wirt worries too much.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Over The Garden Wall**

 **Title: Night Walks**

 **Summary: The Unknown never lets go. Greg and Wirt are slowly becoming more and more permanent residents there, and they both know it. Wirt worries too much.**

 **...**

"Good night!" Wirt called into the living room, not waiting for a reply. He quietly clunked up the steps, sleep dragging at his eyelids.

He peered into his brother's room, the door left wide open. "G'night, Gre-"

The boy was wearing a teapot. Wirt felt his shoulders sag. "Not _again_ , Greg."

Truth be told, Wirt didn't know exactly how or when he and his brother had realized that wearing those costumes made their connection to the Unknown stronger. They could pierce the veil without them, of course, but it took more time and concentration.

At least, it did on his end. He was fairly certain it depended on the person. Greg need only stare into space and he'd be halfway there.

Wirt needed his determination. Greg needed his imagination. A fair trade off, he supposed.

Grumbling under his breath the whole way, Wirt irritably fastened the cape over his shoulders and crawled into bed. He set the hat beside him; it was persistently uncomfortable to have it jabbing at the headboard while he was trying to sleep.

Not even bothering with the blankets, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Well, sort of. Passing through into the Unknown is a complicated process to explain physically. It's a cross between fancy dream projection and falling into a coma. That's the best way to describe it.

Wirt appeared in the Unknown without preamble. It's day in this portion of the woods, with a bright white fog. He's half-tempted to start running, but it's not a dangerous shroud. Everything is brightly lit, and the smell of flowers is in the air. No monsters are in sight.

"Greg?" He cupped his hands to his mouth. An answering voice crept into his ears.

"Wirt! Over here!"

He doesn't sound scared or in pain, but Wirt hurried in that direction anyway. Just in case. He's trying to be a better brother, honestly.

The trees thin out into a hill. A meadow, really, covered in numerous flowers. A gentle breeze blew, making him wrinkle his nose. That explained the smell, at the very least.

"Wirt!" Greg was waving his arms in greeting. "You came!"

Of course he did. The Unknown was just as much his as it was Greg's. Wirt stifled that thought immediately. "Greg, it's a school night. You're gonna be tired in the morning."

The boy acted like he didn't hear, and, maybe, caught up in his excitement, he didn't. "Check out this awesome place! Isn't it cool?"

"It certainly is... pretty." He admitted. He won't deny that he'll write a poem or two about it later, given the proper inspiration.

"I know, right?" He's so pleased that Wirt actually agreed with him that it tears his heart in half. How could he have ever found it in him to hate Greg like he had? The boy could be a bit obnoxious, true, but he was just a little kid. That was normal. "Beatrice and I found it together!"

He gave the woman a nod of greeting. The first few times they'd spoken since that day had been awkward- him trying to get used to her being human and Beatrice re-learning how to be a normal person- but now he could speak to her in a more familiar manner. It had smoothed out, much like their friendship. "Hello, Beatrice. How's your family?"

"Almost as loud as you two." She murmured. She looked quite content, sitting amongst the blades of tall grass. "But what can you do?"

"That's true, I guess." He replied, turning to Greg. "You've been here every night for a week. You need your rest."

"No, I don't!" He stretched, sounding as chipper as ever. He didn't even look winded. "I'm not even tired!"

Wirt was afraid of that. "But-"

"Can't catch me!" He dove into the flowers, laughing. Wirt sighed. He'd try again tomorrow.

"And here I thought you almost liked it here." Beatrice quipped, looking both amused and hurt all at once.

"I do." He rushed to reassure her. "I really do. It's nicer than... home."

Home. When he was here, he couldn't put a name to 'home.' Not even a vague image. It bothered him a lot.

"Alright, Wirt. Spit it out." She shifted over as an invitation to sit down next to her. He took it. "What's the issue with Greg coming here?"

"We're not supposed to _be_ here, Beatrice." He mumbled, pulling up blades of grass. "You know that."

"Not really. I know you're from far away, and you don't like to talk about it. That's all."

Some stories are best saved for another day. "It's complicated. But the bottom line is this; we can't live in both places at once."

Beatrice threw her head back and laughed. "Hate to break it to you, Wirt, but you already are. Once this place has you, it never lets go. Not really."

Moments like these make Wirt wonder just how much Beatrice knows. If she's aware that, at least to the people in his world, the Unknown could be mistaken for a form of afterlife or purgatory. If she is, she's never brought it up. "No, we can't. It may seem like it now, but eventually we're going to be forced to one or the other. There's no middle ground."

 _And it's fairly obvious which side will win_ , he finished silently.

He thought about it, sometimes. The way he and Greg will 'vanish' from the other realm. Nothing quite so brutal or unexpected as drowning, but perhaps something nicer, like dying while asleep (walking here). Or a heart attack. Who knows? Maybe they'll just up and disappear one day without a trace.

It's not quite like dying, however. It's more like... finding yourself lost in a new plane of existence, and being unable to turn back, no matter how much one wanted to.

"You make that sound like it's a bad thing." Beatrice commented, voice soft.

"We have a family, Beatrice. And friends. People close to us. _Some_ of them are bound to be heartbroken." He replied, voice just as quiet. The words seem to both float in the air and be carried away by the breeze all at once; a half-forgotten memory.

"I understand." Beatrice said, and Wirt didn't doubt her. He could only imagine how she'd felt, cold and lonely and a bluebird, trying to find a way to make her family human. Likewise, how her family must've felt, snug and scared and confused, not knowing why they changed or where their family member was. "But you can't change facts, Wirt. Only accept it."

Greg spun in tight circles and fell into a pile of flowers. A few stems flew through the air; judging by the noises he was making, he'd spat them out after almost swallowing.

Beatrice chuckled. "Greg always has."

Wirt resisted the urge to say that Greg didn't understand, because he _did_. He didn't use the same words as he did, but he wasn't clueless.

Greg knew they were fading, and had accepted it, just like he accepted everything. Writ admired his courage.

"It's not _that_ bad here." Beatrice hummed, sounding surprisingly fragile. "My family could help you build a house, or we could go wandering all over again." She sighed, wistful. "There's so much to see."

"You miss it, huh?"

She perked up, blushing. "A little. I wouldn't mind doing it again, I guess. Mostly I'm just glad everything worked out."

Wirt sighed. The thought of he and Greg and Beatrice- this time without the wings- exploring this strange world made him smile, and having a place to go- a little cabin, right here, maybe- brushed some of his worries away.

"You're right."

Beatrice straightened her shoulders. "I always am. You two better get going."

Wirt murmured agreement and stood up. "Greg, it's time to go."

"Aw." Greg popped out of a bundle of yellow flowers, some grasped in his fists. "Can we take a few back with us?"

"I don't think it works that way, Greg." He answered.

"Oh. Okay." Not the least bit put off, he handed him to the girl. "Here you go, Beatrice. Give them to your nice family for me, please."

Beatrice smiled at him. If Wirt didn't know better, he'd think that was a fondness for them both glowing in her eyes. "I will. Maybe, if I'm lucky, someone will be allergic to them."

"Good night, Beatrice!" He called over his shoulder. It's not a goodbye. They haven't said goodbye since they found their way home.

Well, to the other side, at least.

"Good night, you two!" She called back, turning and walking away.

"That was fun." Greg cheered, prancing in front of him. Wirt found it oddly endearing. "Can we go back again tomorrow?"

Why put off the inevitable? "Sure. Tomorrow sounds good."

 **Author's Note: I love the idea that Greg and Wirt are still able to see into the Unknown after waking up in the hospital, but there has to be some sort of effects involved. It can't all be for free.**

 **Also; first Over The Garden Wall Fanfic! Bound to be a little O.O.C., but I'm proud of it nontheless. Next stop; a piece on Beatrice.**

 **-Mandaree1**


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